


Watch Me

by Beauxxxtiful_lies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dildos, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Like extremely dirty talk, M/M, Mirror Sex, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/pseuds/Beauxxxtiful_lies
Summary: Oikawa is the only guy Iwaizumi knows who would want to see his own face during sex. The smug bastard.He would have never considered it, but now he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to watch Tooru come undone—reduced to a writhing panting mess by his own hands and getting to see it from every angle.He’d never admit it to his boyfriend but...he was beginning to see the appeal.* * *Iwaoi mirror sex. What more do you need?* * *UPDATE: 6/11/20I figured out what else we need.Chapter 2:phone/webcam sex!
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 48
Kudos: 640





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy IwaOi day! 
> 
> Here’s some filth to celebrate. 
> 
> Go on, you’ve earned it. 
> 
> ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Iwaizumi was going to explode. 

Or maybe implode. 

Either way he felt like he was about to combust. Right in the middle of the train car. 

And it was all his shitty, no good, spoiled rotten, beautiful, devious, gorgeous boyfriend’s fault. 

It started weeks ago, on Oikawa’s last long weekend before training started up again for Japan’s national volleyball team. Just that year Oikawa had secured a starting position on the team—it was everything he had been dreaming of since they were kids, and Iwaizumi’s chest swelled with pride when he thought about the steps Tooru had taken to get there. But between his conditioning, training, traveling for games, and Iwaizumi’s own career they didn’t have many moments to just _be._

So it was then, as they snuggled together on the sofa on their last lazy morning before the madness began again when Oikawa suggested offhandedly, “Iwa-chan, we should buy a mirror for the bedroom.” Hajime had his head tipped back against the cushions, but even with his eyes closed he could feel Tooru’s gaze overtop the screen of his phone as he mindlessly scrolled through his newsfeed. Tooru’s long legs stretched out over the sofa cushions and bare toes pressed against Iwaizumi’s thigh. 

Hajime sipped at his coffee, one hand curled around Tooru’s ankle and absentmindedly rubbing circles into the joint with his thumb. “Why do you need a mirror in the bedroom? You have a mirror in the bathroom,” he replied.

“Yeah, but It’s too small.” Oikawa looked up at him with a smirk and a devilish twinkle in his eye before he leaned forward, abandoning his phone on the coffee table and crawling across his lap to nuzzle against his cheek. “I can’t watch you fuck me in the bathroom mirror.” 

Iwaizumi nearly choked on his coffee. “What the fuck, Shittykawa?!” 

“What? Don’t you think that sounds sexy?” Oikawa hummed into his collar, his voice low and breathy. “Getting to see everything. Being able to see my face while you thrust into me...” he nipped at Iwaizumi’s earlobe, and despite his best efforts he could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. 

Hajime slid his hand up Oikawa’s side and threaded his fingers through his chestnut curls, tracing soothing patterns at the base of his skull before he tightened his grip, pulling Tooru’s head back and forcing a gasp between his lips. “I don’t need a mirror. I already know your sex face is hideous,” he said with a sly grin, capturing Tooru’s mouth with his own to silence his surprised gasp of “Iwa-chan!” with a deep kiss. 

Oikawa pulled back with his hands braced on Hajime’s shoulders. “Iwa-chan! Rude! My sex face is not hideous!” 

“How would you know?” He quipped, landing a quick kiss on the tip of Oikawa’s nose before he scrambled backward off the couch, nearly spilling Iwaizumi’s coffee as he tugged at his arm. 

“Come on.” 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’re going to fuck me in front of the bathroom mirror so I can prove to you that my sex face is attractive.” 

The only reason they hadn’t ended up in front of the bathroom vanity that morning was because Hajime managed to wrangle Oikawa into the bedroom instead where they spent the rest of the day wrapped up together, tangled in the sheets and pressing ‘I love you’s’ into every inch of skin between whispered giggles and humid breaths. 

Tooru didn’t bring it up again, but he didn’t need to. Hajime would never have considered it before, but now that the seed was planted it had been growing slowly in his mind. Now he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to watch Tooru come undone—reduced to a writhing panting mess by his own hands and getting to see it from every angle. He’d never admit it to his boyfriend but...he was beginning to see the appeal. 

It didn’t help that they had barely seen each other since then, and Oikawa had been away for the past two weeks traveling with his team. He should have said yes from the start—should have known from the moment Oikawa asked about the mirror that he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. After all, when it came to things like this, Tooru always got his way.

He glanced around the train car making sure there were no prying eyes before daring to look back at his phone, unlocking it with his thumb and navigating quickly to the message thread from his boyfriend. 

_“Fuck,”_ he hissed under his breath, shifting his briefcase in front of him to hide the growing bulge in his—already very tight—slacks. 

Oikawa’s flight had landed late the night before, and they’d both fallen into bed exhausted almost as soon as he’d walked through the door. Iwaizumi just had to make it through work that day and they’d have a four-day weekend to spend making up for lost time. 

Just a few hours and he’d have Tooru all to himself. Which didn’t sound like a big deal until...

The first photo had come just before his lunch break—innocent, all smiles and peace signs. The next, a wink. A kiss blown at the camera.

He nearly dropped his phone when he tapped his notifications an hour later to find Oikawa with his lips wrapped around his pointer and index fingers, eyes heavily lidded as his tongue dipped between the digits. 

It escalated from there with Tooru sending him increasingly lewd photos through the day, never once responding to Hajime’s responses or threats with anything more than a wink or heart eyes emoji. He should have ignored him. Should have left it alone, but he couldn’t focus on his work—the damage had already been done—that little flashing icon making his fingers twitch to open every new message. 

The time between messages was never the same, so Hajime couldn’t anticipate when the next one would come. By the time he logged off at the end of the day and made his way toward the train station just the hint of vibration from his phone sent a pulse of energy through him...knowing just what that flashing notification meant. 

This last message almost did him in. 

Right in the middle of the train car.

>>I got you a surprise. Better hurry (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

The photo that followed made his mouth go dry and his breath hitch in his throat. 

Oikawa’s face was turned. His cheek and chest pressed into their bedsheets, eyes closed and jaw slack. His hips angled high up off the bed. Hajime’s eyes followed the arched line of Tooru’s spine, past his hips and over the edge of the bed to settle on the reflection— _the reflection,_ his brain screamed—in the background. 

A new addition to their bedroom furniture—a giant floor length mirror hanging against the wall at the foot of their bed. It perfectly captured Tooru’s spread knees, the base of the bright turquoise plug buried in his ass, his thick cock hanging heavy between his legs. 

Fuck. 

Iwaizumi made it home in record time, stumbling through the door, abandoning his briefcase and quickly shucking off his shoes and jacket before making his way down the hall. No sign of Tooru...that meant he had to be in the bedroom. He really should just leave him in there to sweat for a little while—punishment for keeping him so wound up all day. 

But Hajime had already waited long enough. 

He took a deep breath, turning the knob and stepping into the room and nearly swallowing his own tongue at the lewd display. Tooru was splayed out much like he was in the last photo, face and chest pressed into the mattress and hips angled high up into the air. He lifted his head slightly to glance up at Hajime through his lashes. In the mirror behind him Hajime could see one hand toying with the plug still buried deep, while the other stroked over his flushed cock. 

“Took you long enough,” Oikawa gasped as he pressed the plug back in. 

“Up—now,” Hajime ground out between clenched teeth as he approached the edge of the bed, loosening his necktie as he went and grasping at the threads of control he felt slipping with every second he saw the beautiful scene reflected back at him in the mirror. Oikawa slowly pushed himself up, scooting on his knees to the edge of the mattress. “You’ve been having fun without me,” he said, tone as light as he could manage as he settled one hand over the jut of Oikawa’s hip, and threaded the other through his tousled hair. 

Fuck...he’d missed him _so much._

“Thought I’d surprise you today,” Tooru hummed, leaning into his touch. “Just wanted to be ready for you Iwa-chan.”

“You know, I thought about punishing you for teasing me all day,” Hajime said as he stroked his fingers down the side of Oikawa’s face. “Thought about taking my time coming home...just leaving you alone in here. Making you wait a little longer until you were desperate and then... _maybe_ I’d consider giving you what you want.” His hand came to rest at Tooru’s chin, fingers curling underneath to tip his face upward as he dragged the pad of his thumb over his lower lip. 

He wanted to claim those lips—bite down and then sooth over with a slow swipe of his tongue. Oikawa pouted up at him like he knew exactly what Iwaizumi was thinking, and it took every ounce of his energy not to give in so soon. 

“So what are you doing here,” Tooru asked, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as his hands settled over Hajime’s chest—smug as his gaze drifted down to the bulge in Hajime’s very very tight pants, and _fuck_ the hungry look in his eyes made him burn all over as he watched Oikawa wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was far too composed while Hajime felt like he was ready to catch fire as the flames of arousal licked higher and higher. 

Hajime leaned in, hovering over Tooru’s mouth. “There are other ways to punish you,” he whispered as Oikawa’s breath hitched and his eyes flashed wide. He tightened his fingers around Tooru’s jaw, “So what _should_ I do with you?”

“What do you want to do to me, Iwa-chan?” And goddamnit he used that voice—that _you can do anything to me_ voice—low and breathy and practically dripping with sin.

Hajime silenced him by sealing their mouths together, feeding his tongue between Tooru’s parted lips to lick into his mouth. He tasted like sweet cherries from his lip balm, and now he was really not playing fair the way he slid his tongue against Hajime’s—hot, and wet, and so so easy as they melted together. 

He pulled back, all too soon, to slip the satiny fabric of his necktie between Tooru’s plush lips, tying it in place behind his head—the black fabric a thrilling contrast to the pink flush spreading across his milky skin. 

“Quiet,” he said, pressing their mouths together again around the tie. 

He shifted his gaze to the mirror over Tooru’s shoulder and felt his cock twitch when he locked eyes with his own piercing reflection—he looked so powerful standing fully clothed in front of his stripped down boyfriend who clutched at his shirt collar, already breathing heavily, his pretty cock flushed pink to match the rosy glow of his cheeks.

Iwaizumi pulled him forward off the edge of the bed, holding him up with strong arms as Tooru gripped his shoulders—his surprised gasp muffled in the makeshift gag. In another second Iwaizumi deposited him in front of the mirror on the other side of the bedroom, spinning him around by his hips and shoving him roughly by the shoulder so that he had to brace his hands against the reflective surface. 

Hajime closed in on him, making eye contact in the mirror as he trailed a hand down Tooru’s spine. “How long have you had this in, hmm?” He asked, pressing down on the base of the plug. Oikawa whined and rocked his hips back against Hajime’s hand. “How long did you wait before you stripped down and fucked yourself in front of the mirror?” He made a soft keening sound in the back of his throat, and his eyes fluttered closed when Hajime gripped the base of the plug, twisting and then slowly sliding it out before pressing it back in. “Did you think about me while you spread yourself open, or did you get off on watching yourself?” he hummed as he fucked the plug into him again. 

Tooru couldn’t respond with the gag, but it didn’t matter what the answers were—Hajime already knew, and Oikawa moaned long and low when he asked, “Did you like watching your own fingers disappear into that tight little ass?” 

Being able to see everything all at once—the way his pupils blew with want, the flush creeping slowly down his chest, the way his cock twitched and dribbled precome down his length—had more and more filthy thoughts bubbling to the surface. He let every word slip over Tooru’s skin, caressing him, tickling at the sensitive places along his throat as he dragged his lips over his flesh. 

Hajime was never this vocal in bed. Tooru was the dirty talker between the two of them. Even when his devious boyfriend spent the whole day riling him up—pushing and pushing until finally Hajime would crack and take him apart—hard, and fast, and thorough. But something about being able to watch Oikawa’s reactions spurred him on. 

“I should make you beg for it. Fuck you until you can’t take anymore, and then _maybe_...if you ask nicely...I’ll let you come. What do you think of that, baby?” He reached over Tooru’s arm, wrapping his fingers around his jaw to tilt his face up in the mirror as he spoke. 

Oikawa blinked at him, biting at the fabric between his teeth and muttering something that sounded like “Haji, please” as he shook his head—the motion abbreviated with Hajime holding him tight. 

Hajime released his grip, smoothing his hands over Oikawa’s chest. He nipped at his shoulders and trailed kisses from one side to the other. Mouth and fingers moving agonizingly slowly across Oikawa’s skin as he explored every sensitive curve of muscle, feeling his body react under his touch as he watched him writhe in the mirror and buck his hips back to grind against Iwaizumi’s clothed length. 

“Look at you. Did you miss me...you’re already so desperate for it. Bet you didn’t know you could look like that before I’ve even touched you.” Tooru whined again, a high strained sound at the back of his throat, and a devious thought flashed through Hajime’s mind. 

“You know what...” He grabbed Tooru’s hands from where they had fallen back to his hips, prying his fingertips away from the fabric where he clutched at him and bringing them forward—pressing them flat against the mirror. “I think I’ll do to you what you did to me all day. I’m going to give you a pretty picture to look at,” he said as he dragged the tips of his fingers down over Tooru’s tensed forearms, stretched straight up above their heads and spread wide against the edges of the frame. “But you can’t touch,” he said darkly, stepping back out of view to finally shrug out of his shirt and peel away his slacks and briefs. 

He took a deep breath, a vain attempt to calm himself down while he watched Tooru’s fingers bow and flex against his reflection. Hajime grabbed the lube from where Oikawa had left it on the side table, biting his lip to stifle the groan of relief he felt as he pumped his fist once, twice over the swollen head, slicking himself base to tip. 

“Don’t you dare look away from that mirror,” Hajime said sharply as Oikawa moved to turn his head toward him. The sound Tooru made at the command was enough to snap his final shred of self control—the desperate whimper flaring a possessive ember in his chest. 

In a split second he had crossed the room and pressed himself against Oikawa, mouth working at his neck while his hands eased the plug from his slick entrance. He slowed down just a moment watching the way Tooru’s eyelids fluttered as his rim stretched around the widest point. “Eyes open, baby,” he whispered, setting the plug behind him on the bed and reaching up to untie the fabric from his mouth. 

He wanted to see everything, feel everything, _hear_ everything that Tooru had to offer. 

Oikawa kept his hands planted flat against the mirror. His chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as Iwaizumi pressed against him, easing into that impossibly tight heat—both struggling to keep their fluttering eyelids open, but not wanting to miss a single second.

They both let out a string of curses when their hips met, and Hajime hummed into the curve of Tooru’s shoulder, “You look so beautiful like this...wrapped around my cock. Don’t you baby?”

Oikawa moaned, struggling to hold his gaze as he gasped out between shaking breaths, _“Ha—Haji—yes—”_

“So pretty,” Hajime wrapped his arms around him and pulled back, the slow drag making Tooru shudder in his hold when he pressed back in just as slow. He kept up the slow pace until Oikawa broke down, grinding his ass back against Iwaizumi’s thighs and begging Hajime to give it to him— _harder, faster, more, fuck me pleeease._

He used his grip on Oikawa’s hips to pull him down hard over his cock, knocking a cry from his boyfriend’s lungs before lifting him off and pulling him back down again. “Is this what you wanted Tooru? To see that needy look in your eyes as you watch me fill you up?” Hajime hummed against his flesh, one hand sliding up from his hip to wrap around his chest as he let Oikawa rock back against him. 

_Yesyesyesyesyes_ —Tooru babbled nonsense as he curled his hands into fists against the mirror, breath fogging the glass as he fucked himself back onto the cock buried inside him. 

“Just like that, baby. _Fuck._ Show me how much you want it.” 

_“Ha—Hajime,”_ Oikawa gasped, hips stuttering. “I—I need—”

Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa’s right leg up, hooking it over his arm as he angled their bodies in the mirror. He let Oikawa loop his right arm over his shoulders, but made sure he kept his left planted against the glass. 

He found Tooru’s eyes in the mirror. “Watch me,” he said as he thrust into him, the new position guiding him in at the perfect angle to strike hard against that bundle of nerves that made Oikawa’s eyes want to roll back. But he kept them open, fixed on the place where their bodies connected and his rim stretched tight around Iwaizumi’s thick cock. 

“Look at how pretty you are. You like that, baby?” Iwaizumi asked through heaving breaths. Oikawa looked dazed, biting down on his lower lip as his breath was forced out of him in sharp little gasps. “I want to watch you squeeze around me— _aah!_ —and then you’re going to watch me fill that pretty hole up with cum. You ready?” 

Hajime could feel Tooru’s eyes through the mirror, fixed on the spot where his cock was disappearing inside his boyfriend over and over—too fucked out to beg for it but Hajime knew what he needed. 

“Come for me, Tooru.”

He seized up, walls spasming around Hajime as he tipped over the edge—his untouched cock releasing thick ropes of cum across the surface of the mirror as his mouth opened around a soundless cry. Hajime’s orgasm hit him hard as he watched Tooru shudder through his own. He groaned at the way his balls tightened up and Oikawa’s rim twitched against his cock as it pulsed inside him. 

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily against each other until he lowered Oikawa’s leg and they peeled apart, collapsing together onto the bed. 

Hajime pulled Tooru to his chest, carding his fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Wow.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Wow.” 

“You know...now that I know you can talk like that you are never turning me down for phone sex ever, EVER again. Ever.”

Hajime laughed into his hair, far too content to tell him off like he would any other time. He just mumbled a half-hearted “We’ll see about that.” 

“I mean it,” Tooru said, tipping his face up. “If you want to practice I’ll take my phone in the living room right now.” He made a move like he was going to peel himself out of the bed, but Iwaizumi pulled him back against his chest squeezing a giggle out of him. 

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, but there was no heat behind it. Tooru grinned, warm and happy, and the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes made Hajime’s heart stutter in his chest. He had missed him so much. Four days wasn’t enough time together, but it was a start, and he couldn’t be upset while he had Oikawa wrapped up in his arms. 

He grinned back at him, nodding his head toward the mirror. “The only way I’ll agree to phone sex is if you agree to clean your cum off the mirror.” 

Oikawa blinked dumbly at him for a moment, lifted his head and stared in horror at the mirror before flopping back down. “Never thought I’d say this,” he mumbled into Hajime’s chest, “but...nope. Not worth it.”

Hajime nuzzled against his ear, and now he was the one who wasn’t playing fair when he hummed against his temple in _that_ voice, “You sure about that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...turns out I should either NEVER write dirty talk while tipsy...or I should EXCLUSIVELY write dirty talk while tipsy. The jury’s out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we all thought that mirror sex was everything we could have ever wanted....but then I thought...
> 
> PHONE/WEBCAM SEX (ﾉ･o･)ﾉ
> 
> Really, I just wanted Hajime to get wrecked for his birthday. 
> 
> <3

Tooru’s whole body ached as he stumbled off the bus where it parked in front of the hotel. His muscles protested as he lugged his duffle bag behind him. He was bone-tired, but it was a good ache—satisfying. The kind of ache that reminded him that their victory had been hard-fought and won. The kind of ache that reminded him why he was doing this.

But still, he missed Hajime. 

His teammates tried to steer him toward the hotel bar to celebrate their win, but Oikawa waved them off. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his room where he could relax in a nice hot bath and then collapse onto his oversized bed. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. What he really wanted was to fall into bed next to his boyfriend on the charcoal colored bedspread they picked out when they first moved in together—melting into the cocoon of his arms as Iwaizumi’s hands traced soothing shapes over his skin. But Oikawa wouldn’t be home for another week, so the bath would have to do. 

He nodded a polite greeting to the staff posted at the front desk as he made his way through the hotel lobby. 

_“Phone sex would be better than a bath though,”_ his traitorous brain supplied—still high on victory and adrenaline. Immediately his nose scrunched in a grimace remembering the last time he had tried (and stupendously failed) to talk his oblivious boyfriend into getting off over the phone.

 _“Iwa-chan,”_ he had trilled, sinking back into the hotel pillows and teasing his fingers down the light trail of hair from his navel to his waistband. “What are you wearing?” 

“Umm...sweatpants and an old t-shirt?” came Iwaizumi’s confused and very un-sexy response. 

“No, Iwa-chan. You’re supposed to say ‘nothing.’ Sweatpants aren’t sexy.” 

“You’re the one who asked. Besides, who’s trying to be sexy?”

The man was hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. 

Before that first time in front of the mirror Oikawa had never dreamed that Iwaizumi could be so...so lewd. He’d never heard him talk like that, and ever since that day he had been trying to bring out the X-rated side of his boyfriend. But Hajime was nothing if not stubborn, and he went right back to his stoic ways...stoic that is, unless they were in front of the mirror. 

Initially, Oikawa had thought it sounded fun. They were both attractive. He knew they looked good together as a couple, but he had always wondered what they looked like when they were _together_. 

He thought about asking his boyfriend if they could film one of their trysts so they could play it back later. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly open about his kinks, but Oikawa knew him well enough to know with absolute certainty that he’d never agree to that plan. At least not without some careful prompting, and Tooru didn’t really have the patience for that. 

Mirror sex was low pressure, and he was pretty sure that after he got over the initial skepticism, Iwaizumi would enjoy getting to watch. He learned rather quickly that it was quite the opposite. 

Hajime liked to _be watched._

He’d never get the other man to admit it out loud, but Hajime was always louder, wilder, when he held Tooru in front of the mirror and whispered into his ear “watch me” as he fucked into him. 

And...okay...maybe Tooru liked to watch. But that was no one’s business but his own.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jacket as he stood waiting for the elevator, dragging his thoughts back to the present. He couldn’t help but grin when he saw Hajime’s number blinking back at him. 

Oikawa slid his thumb across the screen to answer as he stepped onto an empty elevator car, using his elbow to tap the button for the eighth floor.

 _“Iwa-chan!~_ Did you call to tell me how much you miss me?” 

“Shittykawa, I will hang up on you.”

Just before the doors slid closed someone stopped it with their arm and a group of hotel guests crowded in around him.

 _“Great,”_ he thought to himself, but he’d care more about how rude it might be to answer the phone on an elevator if they hadn’t just swarmed his empty car and pressed almost every floor between the lobby and his own. So, he just smiled and faced the doors. 

“Iwa-chan! Is that any way to treat your sweetheart?”

“There’s nothing sweet about you,” Hajime scoffed and grumbled on the other end of the line, though Oikawa could hear the smile laced through his voice. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m as sweet as sugar. You’re the one who sounds salty.” 

After a long pause Iwaizumi said, “Okay, hanging up now.”

“What!? Wait!” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice as he remembered where he was. “You didn’t even tell me if you watched the match.” 

Iwaizumi always watched his games, but Oikawa liked the reminder. It helped him to know that his boyfriend was supporting him even if he couldn’t be there in person. 

Hajime laughed and then hummed low—the sound was thin and staticky through the line, but Tooru still felt it roll through him as he pressed the phone up to his ear. 

“Yeah, I saw,” he hummed again. “You looked _so good_ today _,_ baby.” 

Oikawa preened at the praise. “Don’t I always?” 

When Iwaizumi answered him again with a low rumbled _“Mhmm.”_

“Hajime...what are you—”

Iwaizumi cut him off, “I swear. Shittykawa. If you ask me what I’m wearing I will hang up on you.” He sounded entirely too breathless for the threat to stick, and all of a sudden Oikawa’s heart was racing. 

The elevator dinged and he stepped aside to let someone off at the third floor, tapping his foot and shooting a nervous glance out the corner of his eye toward the other passengers. 

“What...what exactly are you doing...right now?”

Hajime let out a breathy sound that caught the edge of his voice on the way out, “Are you back in your room yet? Why don’t you video chat me and find out?” 

The car stopped again, depositing guests on the next floor. Tooru kept his eyes on the panel of lights, counting down to his stop. “On my way, just....give me a minute.”

“Better hurry, or you’re gonna— _aah_ —m-miss the show,” Iwaizumi gasped. 

“Hajime—“ Oikawa whispered harshly into the phone.

“Is there anyone around you?”

“I’m on the elevator,” he said trying to keep his voice and his hands from shaking. He subtly moved his bag in front of him—the last thing he needed was someone accusing him of being some kind of elevator pervert. 

The bell dinged again, this time at the sixth floor and he squeezed into the corner to let someone exit, pressing the phone tight against his ear. Iwaizumi’s breath sounded heavy on the line. 

_“Tooru,”_ he sighed and Oikawa tried to cover his squeak with a cough, looking awkwardly away from the other passengers. Though no one seemed to pay him any mind. 

He could picture Hajime spread out across their bed with one fist wrapped around his cock. Those sounds though. Hajime only made those sounds when Tooru was— 

_“Aah! Fu—Fuck.”_

“How—” His mouth was so dry he could barely get the words out. He cleared his throat and tried again, “How many?” 

“How many what? Hmm? Do you want to know how many— _ha_ —how many fingers I’m using to s-spread myself open?” 

“Yes,” he said just above a whisper. 

“Two.”

“Add another,” he said with a tone that rang more pleading than commanding, but he knew Hajime obeyed when he heard the catch of his breath over the receiver. 

“Good,” he heard himself say. “I’m almost there.” 

When the elevator doors opened Oikawa burst out of them, rushing down the corridor and digging through his pockets for his room key. “Don’t stop, Iwa-chan,” he directed when the heavy breathing over the line went quiet. “You want to be ready for me don’t you?” 

When he found the key his hands were shaking so badly that he fumbled when he heard Iwaizumi moan, dropping the plastic card to the floor. He propped the phone against his shoulder and crouched down to retrieve the key, unlocking the door as fast as his shaking hands would allow and throwing the deadbolt as soon as he was inside. 

He tossed his bag on the luggage rack, ripped off his jacket, and rushed over to his laptop where he’d left it on the side table that morning. “Just...hold on, okay? I’m switching to video chat.” 

He dropped his phone and flipped open his laptop, stuffing in his earbuds so he didn’t have to listen to Hajime through his shitty computer speakers. If he couldn’t have his hands on him, he wanted him as close as possible. 

_“Oh fuck,”_ Oikawa breathed when Iwaizumi answered the call and his image came up on the screen. He was reclined against the headboard of their bed, legs spread wide putting all of him on display. He hoped his microphone hadn’t picked it up, but the cocksure grin that Iwaizumi flashed the camera said otherwise. 

“So, you really _did_ call to tell me you missed me.”

“Something like that.” Hajime’s eyes fluttered as he flexed his hips and palmed over his erection—the lube on his hand leaving it slick and glistening in the soft light from the bedside lamp. 

Tooru felt his cock twitch in his track pants and he was suddenly aware of how achingly hard he was. He toed his shoes off and slid his pants down his thighs, kicking them off over the end of the bed and leaving him clad only in boxer briefs and the thin t-shirt he had thrown on in the locker room. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt,” he said leaning back against the pillows and angling the screen toward him. “You did say you’d put on a show for me.”

“Careful,” Iwaizumi warned. “Act like a brat and I might hang up on you.” 

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Hajime grinned devilishly, and Tooru watched as he gripped his cock, pumping his fist slowly over his length before dragging his hand lower to tease his slick fingers over his entrance. He groaned and tipped his head back, jaw slack as he pressed in easily with two fingers. 

“Look at you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa crooned as he lazily stroked himself through his boxers. “You’re already so desperate to be filled aren’t you?” 

Hajime growled a warning, but Tooru didn’t miss the way his cock twitched at the words. “Mmm...but you look so good spread open for me.” 

“Yeah?” Hajime gasped as he fucked himself on his fingers. “I know you like to watch.” 

_“And we both know you want me to watch,”_ he thought, but he wasn’t about to risk Hajime actually hanging up on him, so he kept it to himself and hummed in agreement. Maybe his boyfriend wasn’t as oblivious as he had thought. 

He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the soft sounds Hajime made as he scissored his fingers. It was almost maddening to have his moans echoing in his head, but to not be able to feel his breath puff hot over his skin. 

“I wish you were here with me,” he sighed. 

“You should consider yourself lucky that I’m not,” Iwaizumi huffed a laugh. 

His eyes snapped open. Not the reaction Oikawa had expected. 

“And why’s that?” he asked. 

“Because we never would have made it out of the arena after the game. I would have dragged you right back into that locker room.”

“The locker room? Really, Iwa-chan?” He said in mock surprise. ”Is that because you just can’t wait to drop to your knees so I can choke you on my cock?” 

Hajime scoffed and looked away from the camera, though he didn’t deny it. 

Tooru leaned toward his screen with a sharp grin. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Iwa-chan. Besides, you look good on your knees with your lips wrapped around me.”

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi spat. 

“That would be better, wouldn’t it?” He leaned back, propped up on his side with one arm as he tugged his waistband down with the other to free his swollen length. “Drag me back into the locker room in my sweaty game jersey so I can bend you over. Maybe fuck you up against the lockers, for old times’ sake? Or would you rather have your face pressed against the shower tile while I fill up that needy hole?”

Tooru didn’t know which fantasy did it, but Iwaizumi threw his head back and arched high off the bedspread with a loud moan. The muscles in his forearm strained and flexed while he curled three fingers inside himself.

“That’s it, Haji’— _Shit—_ I bet you’re still so tight.” 

Iwaizumi slowed his movements and withdrew his hand, bringing it back up to pump a few times over his dick as he propped himself back up off the pillows with his free arm. “I hope not,” he said, “or this is gonna be rough.”

Oikawa dragged his thumb over his slit, smearing a bead of pre-cum over his crown as he tried to focus on his boyfriend's words. “What does that mean?”

“So I...um...I kinda have a surprise for you.” 

“Iwa-chan, I’m already surprised. What more could you possibly have planned?” 

He watched as Iwaizumi tucked his feet under himself, standing on his knees with his legs still spread wide for the camera. He closed his eyes and chewed his lip for a second before mumbling, “You’d better not make me regret this.” 

Oikawa could feel the anticipation buzzing through him, but nothing could have prepared him for Iwaizumi to reach off screen and come back with a dick. 

A monster flesh-colored dildo. 

Well...not a _monster_ exactly—it was realistic enough. It was red at the tip, laced with veins, and curved slightly upward like his own throbbing length as it bobbed over his abs. The thing was probably seven or eight inches, no longer than his own cock, but it was _thick_. Thick enough near the base that Hajime’s fingers just barely closed around it. 

“It’s...uh...bigger than I expected,” Hajime said, voice tinged with more than a little bit of uncertainty. 

The breath was stolen right out of Tooru’s lungs when he shifted his gaze to his boyfriend and caught sight of the blush creeping across the bridge of his nose. He gaped at him as he tried to frantically organize his thoughts. 

Hajime. Iwaizumi Hajime—who just a few days ago brushed off his _very obvious_ phone sex advances—was currently video chatting him fully nude, and holding the biggest dildo he’d ever seen. 

_What glorious thing did I do to deserve this man?_

Hajime, on the other hand, looked like he was questioning every life choice that had ultimately led him to this moment. 

“What are you planning to do with that, Hajime?” Oikawa asked, voice low and lilting. 

Iwaizumi looked toward the camera, running the hand not covered in lube through the short hair at the back of his head. He didn’t know it was possible, but Oikawa watched his blush spread farther to color the tips of his ears as he struggled for an answer. 

Well, that was fine. If Iwaizumi didn’t want to talk about it, Oikawa could more than make up for that. 

“You know what I want you to do?” He waited until he was sure he had Hajime’s full attention. 

“I want you to take that dick and show me _exactly_ what you’d do if you were here with me.” Even through the computer screen he could see the way Hajime’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. “You’re already on your knees. Why don’t you start there?” 

Oikawa held his breath waiting for Iwaizumi to react. He still looked like he was torn between whether to proceed, or turn off the video stream and pretend that none of this had ever happened. 

For a moment he thought he may have pushed him too far, but just as Tooru was about to walk back his request Hajime brought the tip of the dildo to his lips. 

Oikawa clamped his jaw closed so fast his teeth clicked together, only for it to drop open as he watched Iwaizumi swipe the flat of his tongue over the tapered head. 

Iwaizumi slowly fucked the cock into his mouth until his lips were stretched wide around it, unable to take the full length without pulling it back to swallow and gasp for breath. 

He looked up at the camera, bright green eyes sparkling through dark lashes as he swirled his tongue. It made Tooru feel like he was looking right into his eyes as he watched his boyfriend’s lips part to take it in inch by inch. 

_“So good.”_ Oikawa pumped his own erection in time with Iwaizumi’s movements. “Don’t forget, I played a full game today. I worked so hard, Iwa-chan.” Hajime hummed around the length in his mouth, and the sound had Tooru bucking up into his hand. “I love fucking your mouth, but I’m exhausted. Why don’t you take care of me?” 

Hajime rolled his eyes, but he got the memo and instead of moving the dildo over his tongue he held it steady, leaning toward the camera and bobbing his head over the length to take it deeper and deeper. The angle he held it at, the base just slightly off screen, made it easy to imagine someone else was in the room with him. Oikawa gasped and hummed little encouraging words, imagining it was Iwaizumi’s hot mouth he was sinking into and not just his own fist, until Hajime popped off, chest flushed and heaving as he gasped for breath. 

“Tooru—I—I need you.” 

He sounded so desperate, so unlike Hajime, that his voice alone almost sent Tooru over the edge. He gripped himself hard and pulled a stuttered breath through his nose. 

“I need _you_ , Haji,” he whispered. ”Want to watch you split yourself open on that cock. Can you do that for me?”

A quiet curse escaped Hajime’s lips as he quickly slicked the dildo with a bottle he grabbed from offscreen, and repositioned to straddle it on his knees.

“Go slow,” Oikawa warned. His breath hitched as he watched Iwaizumi sink down, rocking his hips little by little until his rim stretched around the base and his head tipped back with another curse. 

_“Shit,”_ he gasped, his voice stretched thin. “It’s so—it’s so big.” Hajime braced the base with one hand that he curled around the back of his thigh. The other hand threaded into his hair, tugging at the short spikes as he adjusted around the silicone cock filling him. 

“How do you feel, Iwa-chan?”

“...full,” he said looking at the camera with heavy lidded eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked upward and he shifted his knees wider to give Oikawa a better view. 

He looked gorgeous—tanned skin glistening with sweat and slick, brow furrowed in concentration as he started to move. 

“Baby, will you— _fuck—_ Will you just—just talk to me?” 

“Yeah—yeah, okay. Want me to tell you how good you look?” Tooru groaned, thrusting into his fist with renewed vigor as he watched Hajime roll his hips. “So goddamn sexy, Hajime. Look at you ride that dick. Gods,” he ground the words out through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Hajime couldn’t mask his sounds now, low needy moans that rolled down Tooru’s spine to pool heat in his groin, peppered with sharp breaths that punched the air from his lungs. 

“Don’t stop—You’re doing so good.” 

Oikawa’s mouth watered as he watched Iwaizumi’s dick bounce with the motion of his hips. He could tell Hajime was close, the muscles in his abs and thighs trembled as he started to lose his rhythm. He fought back his own orgasm, desperate to see Iwaizumi finish with that thick cock still buried inside of him. 

“Touch yourself, Hajime.” 

“Ca— _aah—_ c-can’t,” he stuttered. “I’m— _ah—_ I’ll—”

“Do it,” he said with a little more force. “I want you to come with me while that fat cock fills you up.” 

He watched as Hajime wrapped a shaking hand around himself and within seconds he was crying out in ecstasy, his broken moans dragging Tooru over the edge—vision whiting out as he rucked his shirt up and spilled over his chest with Hajime’s voice in his ears.

Tooru’s limbs buzzed in the afterglow. When he blinked his eyes back open Hajime had collapsed onto the bedspread—the toy abandoned. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to curl into his boyfriend’s side, focusing instead on the blissed-out expression on Hajime’s face and the way it made his heart swell.

“You’re amazing, you know?” 

“Eeh,” Hajime gave a weak shrug, tipping his face back toward his screen. “You worked hard today. Wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well, you succeeded,” Tooru laughed, letting himself sink a little farther into the pillows. 

They were quiet for a while, both catching their breath as they came down from their high. Oikawa watched the steady rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s chest, wondering if he had fallen asleep until he stirred, sleepily cracking his eyes open. 

“I really am proud of you, Tooru.” 

Oikawa felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Yeah, I know. You post-coital sap.” Iwaizumi chuckled at the insult. 

“I need to get in the bath, but I’m so tired I might literally drown.” 

“Me too,” Hajime nodded. He peeled himself off the mattress and pulled his laptop closer. “Could switch back to our phones and keep each other awake.” 

“Okay.” Oikawa saw him reach to disconnect the call but before he could he whispered, “Hey, Hajime…I love you.” 

Iwaizumi flashed him a sleepy smile. 

“I love you too, baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your Honor, they are IN LOVE ヽ(´ー`)ﾉ
> 
> And for the record, Hajime definitely picked up his dirty talk from Trashykawa
> 
> That boy is _filthy_ (&& I do mean that in the best way)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I’d love to hear what you think [even and especially if it’s just incoherent screaming]. Drop me a comment or come yell at me on Tumblr 
> 
> [@beauxxxtifullies](https://beauxxxtifullies.tumblr.com/)  
> ♡ ♡ ♡


End file.
